Not Another Bleach Fic
by HaveBookWillTravel
Summary: Adopted with permission from Fullmetal Wetback. Kurosaki Ichigo's mother was killed, and he was powerless to stop it. But with determination, resolve, and some unwanted assistance from a shop full of supernatural exiles, he might just become powerful enough to guard those he holds dear and become the protector he was always meant to be. Rating for swear words and gore.
1. The One Who Protects

**Author's Note: **So, I finally got permission from _Fullmetal Wetback _to adopt his _Not Another Bleach Fic_, the title of which I'm keeping because...well, because it's such a good title. Those familiar to the story will notice a few changes, those who are unfamiliar will not.

Regardless, the story will follow _Bleach _canon loosely, using the original _NABF_ story as a guideline. However, this does not mean my version will be a carbon copy. While I love the story to death and am a huge fan, there _were_ a few discrepancies, which I will do my best to rectify without creating a hundred more in its place.

I think that's all.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything which already belongs to someone else. That's not how the world works, unfortunately.

**Warnings: **This story will have major spoilers throughout, so if you haven't already read the most recent manga chapters (as of this posting, it'_s 536: Everything But The Rain OP.9_), or don't care, then I would suggest leaving now and returning when you have gotten up to speed. Watch your step, because the swear-words will fly freely throughout the story, similar to the original. Blood and gore will also abound, and I think that's about it. You have been warned.

* * *

Chapter 1: The One Who Protects

* * *

"Really, Mom, I was _this _close to beating Tatsuki today!" the young boy insisted, punching out restlessly. He looked up at his mother, brown eyes searching beneath his bright orange hair. "You believe me, right?"

Kurosaki Masaki smiled reassuringly at her son, snaking an arm around his shoulder and pulling him closer to her, and back beneath the umbrella she was using to ward off the driving rain. "Of course I do, Ichigo," she told him. "But you know, it isn't shameful to lose to a more skilled opponent."

"But she's not more skilled!" Ichigo retorted grumpily. "Her technique's all sloppy, and she barely aims her kicks! It's just that she's..." He paused, and Masaki gazed curiously at the boy's expression. He looked nervous, and almost...jealous.

"She's what?"

"She's _stronger_ than me, okay?" Ichigo grumbled. "It's 'cause she's been training longer than me, I know it." This said more to himself than anything. "Maybe if I train to be faster, then she won't be able to hit me!" Ichigo looked back up at his mother with a wide grin. "Brute strength is worth nothing if she can't hit me, right?"

Masaki returned the grin mischievously. _Using speed to outclass a more physically-powerful opponent is a very Quincy-like tactic_, she thought. _Isshin might be disappointed if he's ever had any notions that our children might be pureblood shinigami. They _are_ still human, after all._

As she listened to her first-born child chatter on about how he was going to finally beat his sparring partner, Masaki reflected on the past decade fondly, more to stave off the gloomy moods that stormy days always inflicted on her spirit. Sometimes, she still wondered at it; it was like one of those forbidden-romance novels she'd read as a little girl, like Romeo and Juliet. A high-born Quincy and a shinigami captain, brought together through mutual sacrifice, and bound by love. Yes, love and three beautiful, sometimes rambunctious children. If they were the cost of losing all the power of a master Quincy, then Masaki would gladly pay it, time and again, and she was sure that Isshin felt the same way.

And if Kisuke's hypotheses were correct (which they usually were), their kids were on their way to becoming pretty powerful in their own right. Ichigo himself was accumulating quite a respectable amount of reiatsu. Even if she couldn't access the reishi in the air, she could still feel it all around her, and while it wasn't much, the pressure her son's spirit exuded was definitely on the radar, and could only grow with time.

Maybe it had something to do with the karate lessons Ichigo had been taking since he was four? Five years of that would definitely strengthen his body, and Soken-ojisan always espoused that a strong body meant a strong spirit. Soon, she would try and teach Ichigo how to feel reishi in the air, and maybe then Kisuke could pass down the Crosses he'd made to counteract the total destruction of a soul-body. Who knew? Maybe Ryu-chan could bring little Uryu-bo and they could learn to be the next generation of Quincy together.

So lost in her thoughts was she that Masaki failed to notice Ichigo yelling until he took off into the sheets of rain, sliding down the grassy embankment of the Karasu River, heading right for-

Masaki froze for just a bare second, right as a lightning bolt lit up the sky. The small figure, a girl in a rain poncho, was obviously what Ichigo had seen. But his spiritual awareness hadn't developed to the point that he could see what his mother did; the angler-like lure that attached the blank form to the monstrous creature. It's body was large and furry, with bird-like appendages and an oval mask bearing a horrific grin.

_Hollow._

Training kicking in instinctively, Masaki's mind caught up to her body as her feet touched down on the level ground of the river's bank, pounding across the slick grass with the sure footing of someone who never really forgot rain-soaked battles in the dark. One hand rose, fingers crooked as if holding a tiny bow while her thumb drew back an invisible string.

The former Quincy almost sobbed when no reishi coalesced in her hand to create a deadly arrow, ready to incinerate the Hollow who dared _contemplate_ harming her child, and she realized instantly that she wouldn't be able to stop the monster from taking a meal. And in the next instant, Masaki's adrenaline-fueled brain came up with, and executed the same plan thousands of distressed mothers had done throughout history.

She took the killing blow for her child, relinquishing her hold on the mortal coil so her son's grip would remain sure and safe. It was almost ironic, she reflected through the haze of pain. This Hollow had gotten her almost in the exact same place that other one had, so many years ago on a night not so very different from this one. Her breath hitched, even as she assessed the damage. _Rib-cage shattered, left lung punctured, rotator cuff broken to pieces...this is it._

Very quickly, the pain receded as her head became lighter, lighter than the clouds above as they emptied themselves of the heavy moisture. So many thoughts raced across her mind's eye, but most of them went along the lines of: _Isshin, I'm so sorry I won't be there for you. _Or, _Yuzu, Karin, Ichigo, forgive me for abandoning you so early._

"Mom?" From so very far away, it seemed, she felt something squirming out from beneath her, even as she felt her soul, her _self_, fading away. Gathering up all the strength that she could from her dying body, Masaki raised her hand to her son's face and smiled trying to focus on his beautiful face.

"I'm sorry, Ichigo," she croaked out, _forcing_ her lungs to expand one last time, and breathed out with her final breath, "I love you."

* * *

"Oomph!" _Three, two, one..._

Tatsuki blinked when she didn't hear the sound of a blubbering child, then snapped out of her fighting trance and remembered that her favorite punching bag hadn't come to practice again. Instead, it was Hondo's butt whom she'd handed on a silver platter, and, really, that was nothing to brag about.

Truthfully, she liked sparring with the orange-haired boy because he was _good_ at karate, and though she'd never admit it to anyone (_including_ herself), Tatsuki knew that Ichigo was a much more technical fighter than she was, and the only reason she won all their bouts was because she was stronger. And it surely wasn't _her_ fault that he was a little wuss.

But above all that, she had come to see Kurosaki Ichigo as a friend over the past five years, a commodity which the dark-haired girl didn't have very much of. Not many kids wanted to hang out with her, after all. The boys didn't like the fact that she could beat them up with two hands tied behind her back, and the girls only wanted to play with dolls and dresses and who could even _begin_ to form proper_ katas_ in something so billowy and in-the-way?

Ichigo, however, was different. He didn't hold the fact that she knocked him on his backside on an almost daily basis against her (even if he griped about it and analyzed their bouts blow-for-blow afterward), and he didn't think she was weird for not liking the things girls were supposed to like either. He accepted her for who and what she was, and that was really all that mattered, in the little nine-year-old's mind.

Which was why Tatsuki was concerned for her friend. It had been a devastating blow when the teacher at school had come in to explain Ichigo's absence and the reasons behind it, and not one Tatsuki could block. It had hurt a surprising amount when it had sunk in; Masaki could bring a smile to her sparring partner's face instantly, but the woman could also do the same for her most of the time. To realize that she would never see her friend's wonderful mother again had caused Tatsuki to cry in her bed for a whole night, and she didn't let go of her mother for days afterward, fearing she might disappear as well.

The worst part by far, however, had been when Ichigo had stayed gone, and Tatsuki hadn't seen her best (only) friend in weeks. He didn't show up at the dojo, he ditched school all the time, and whenever she and her mom went to the Kurosaki house, the only thing they were greeted by was the heart-rending image of Isshin, with eyes as desolate and bleak as a bottomless pit, cradling Karin and Yuzu while they bawled their hearts out for their mother.

So that day, after practices were over, and she'd beaten Hondo into the ground several more times to vent her frustration, Tatsuki struck out for where she thought Ichigo might be after phoning her mom to explain her intentions.

When she got to the Karasu Embankment, she hesitated on the bridge overlooking the spot Masaki had died. There he was, pacing along the river's bank restlessly, glancing around every once in a while as if looking for something.

_His mother's ghost,_ a part of her mind supplied. Ichigo always insisted that he could see the spirits of the dead, and even though Tatsuki didn't believe there was a lick of truth in his stories, Ichigo himself obviously _did_ believe them, if the frantic gleam to his eyes was anything to go by. Tatsuki watched her friend for a long time, the shadows growing longer as the sun set behind the horizon, and when he wasn't walking around the same spot, wearing a groove in the grass, he was crouching at the water's edge looking into the rushing river morosely.

Finally, after a long internal debate, Tatsuki made her way down to him, stopping just a foot away from where he'd sat down to rest his legs. She opened her mouth, and only then realized that she didn't have any idea about what to say to her grieving friend. So instead, she just crouched down next to him, hoping that she was offering that 'silent support' her mom had talked about. They sat together in the growing darkness for what had to be an hour before he said anything.

"Go away, Arisawa," Ichigo grunted. His voice was croaky and hollow, like someone banging a canteen with a rock. That didn't stop her from firing up immediately at the slight. He'd actually used her familial name! They'd never even really used honorifics to begin with, and it seemed almost a given that they were on a first-name basis from pretty much the get-go, so that hurt more than she'd like to admit.

"What's your problem!?" she snapped, jumping to her feet and pointing down at him haughtily. "I sat out here for-forever with you, and you repay me by telling me to get lost? I don't think so!"

"My problem?" Anger laced his voice, which was something new to Tatsuki; Ichigo rarely ever got really angry, and that venom in his tone left little doubt. "My problem is that I got my mom _killed_!" He rose to his feet and jabbed at the ground beneath his feet. "Right here, right at this spot, is where she died, and it was my fault!"

She saw the whites of his eyes redden as if he were about to cry, but nothing happened afterward. _No tears left to shed,_ she thought worriedly. "Ichigo..." Tatsuki whispered softly, more curious than ever about the circumstances surrounding that lovely woman's death.

Abruptly, Ichigo stiffened in embarrassment and shame, then turned and started pacing again. "Just leave me alone, Tatsuki," he spat out thickly.

Instead of listening to him (because who did he think _he_ was to give _her_ orders?), Tatsuki marched up to him, spun him around, and did what her mom always did when she was feeling down, wrapping him up in a big hug. And maybe she was squeezing a little too tight, but he didn't seem to really mind. Really, he didn't even struggle that much before his head dropped to her shoulder and moisture began bleeding through her shirt.

"It's my fault," he said in a muffled voice trembling with despair. "She's dead because of _me_."

"My dad's dead, too." Tatsuki was surprised that had slipped out; she didn't like talking of her deceased parent all that much. Ichigo seemed surprised, too, judging by how his head shot up and wide amber eyes bored into sorrowful blue ones. "He died when I was really young, and I get sad thinking about it because I can't remember him. Just a smile and warmth. But...I...I just want you to know that you're not alone, okay? I'm here if you need someone to talk to. I was worried when you stopped coming to school, and I know your family is, too."

Ichigo suddenly looked like he'd been punched in the gut (and Tatsuki was _very _familiar with that expression on his face). "Yuzu, Karin," he whispered. "I've been such a _jerk_!"

And then, without warning, Ichigo raced off, and a startled Tatsuki could do nothing but chase after him, hollering about how inconsiderate he was. In her haste, she nearly tripped over a black cat who'd been skulking around and spat out a hurried apology to it without thinking.

But when she finally reached the Kurosaki family's home a scant minute after Ichigo made it there, Tatsuki opened the door to find Ichigo looking up at his father with unshed tears in his eyes and Isshin staring back.

"I'm sorry," Ichigo said softly as his bottom lip began to wobble. "I'm _sorry_..." And even as Ichigo began to cry, Isshin gathered him up in a tight embrace, rubbing his back reassuringly

"You have nothing to apologize for, Ichigo," Isshin replied firmly. "Your mother loved you, and in the end it was her decision to keep you safe. It was _not your fault_, remember that."

"But I couldn't protect her," sobbed Ichigo. "That's why you named me 'Ichigo', to protect, and I couldn't do it...I..."

"Then get stronger, my son," Isshin told him, pulling back slightly to look Ichigo in the eyes, placing his hands on his shoulders to command the boy's attention. "Get stronger so you can protect the ones you care for." And it might have been Tatsuki's imagination, but Isshin looked like he knew a thing or two about being strong for just a moment.

Ichigo used his sleeve to wipe at his face, sniffing a bit, then nodded to his father once, a sharp, jerky motion, and turned to Tatsuki. And in his eyes, she saw something she'd never seen before. She didn't know what it was, but it made a shiver crawl up her spine just seeing it. "I need your help to get stronger, Tatsuki."

It was then that she knew what it was that had caught in her friend's spirit. It was the drive and determination to see his loved ones safe, and if he needed her help, then that's what she'd give.

And suddenly, his name made more sense to her, and she resolved to stop making fun of it.

* * *

**After-Action Report:** So that was the first chapter of the rebooted version of _Not Another Bleach Fic_. I hope it was up to the high standards _Fullmetal Wetback_ set, and I hope everyone enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. I'm going to try and do some world-building with this fic that the original author didn't. Not that I have anything against it, but _FW_ never really got into what sort of training Ichigo went through with the Shoten crew or how Chad and Orihime got their powers. So the next few chapters will deal with some training, and meeting the Princess and the Giant. Then, and only then, will we get to the Agent of the Shinigami arc which kicks off canon _Bleach_ and all the fun that it is associated with.

Also, I used some foreign terms, and I realize that not everyone is familiar with them, so I have included a small reference guide.

-Ojisan: uncle, or older man. In this case, Masaki is using it to refer to her uncle.

-Chan: term of endearment. In this case, Masaki uses it to refer to her cousin.

-Bo: cutesy term of endearment, simplified version of -bozu (which is the English equivalent of calling a child 'squirt'). In this case, Masaki uses it to refer to her cousin's son.

_kata_: a series of martial arts movements, more commonly referred to as forms.

If I missed any, let me know.

And as always, I beg that you review. It's really the only thing a fanfiction writer cares about. Favorites and follows might boost the ego, but it's the reviews that really get me happy. And when I'm happy, I write more. Yeah. Think about it.


	2. The Protector's Shadow

**Author's** **Note: **Before anything else, allow me to profess my deepest apologies for making you wait so long. Excuses mean nothing, so I won't try to excuse the horrible atrocity I have wrought upon you, my readers. This'll probably happen again, so I'll take the opportunity to apologize in advanced as well. I'm a very unreliable author in terms of setting a deadline and meeting it, something I feel I should get out of the way right now. But what I lack in punctuality, I make up for in imagination and childlike fantasy. So...yeah, at least I've got that going for me.

**Disclaimer: **Still applies for chapter one.

**Warning: **Also still applies from chapter one.

* * *

Chapter 2: The Protector's Shadow

* * *

_Kisuke owes me big for this_, thought Shihoin Yoruichi as she stalked the boy with the bright hair. In her feline form, it wasn't too difficult to do while avoiding detection from the target, even if the kid looked as jumpy as a wind-up Chappy figurine. She'd been following him around for close to a week at her friend's pleading, and the only think keeping her from bashing her head into the wall was the thought of all the fish Kisuke had offered her in exchange for her services. It had been only about a year and a half since she'd watched over the boy on the banks of the Karasu while he dealt with his grief, but much had changed about him since then. The most glaringly obvious metamorphosis had to be the way he carried himself.

Before, Kurosaki Ichigo had been a little flighty, and from what she'd heard from Masaki, quite a little crybaby when it came to most things. This boy now, despite only nineteen more months of physical training, strode down the pavement with purpose. A scowl that was becoming more commonplace cast his boyish features into something darker and more foreboding. From the few times she'd peeked in on his karate lessons, as well as the obvious tenderness with which he moved, Yoruichi knew that the bright-haired youth was pushing his body well past its limits on an almost daily basis. And that zeal which he showed as he threw himself into learning self-defense was having a definite influence on the boy's spiritual pressure. Whether that influence was for good or ill was the main reason for this little recon mission.

Balancing on a low brick wall, Yoruichi watched as Ichigo glanced around him surreptitiously (and if she wasn't onmitsu, she might have actually missed it), then turned sharply into a narrow alley. Jumping from the wall to the building which comprised one side of the small passage, Yoruichi peered down as Ichigo whirled around, pointing a demanding finger as he yelled, "AHA!"

Triumph turned to bewilderment when he realized no one was behind him. Shaking his head, Ichigo muttered, "Could've sworn I felt someone following me..." He pulled out a mobile phone, a cheap pre-paid device (_Isshin's such a cheap-skate_, thought Yoruichi), and after a moment, held it to his ear. "Hey, Tats. Yeah, I'm gonna be late." Wincing, he held the phone away from his ear as a sharp, tinny voice issued from the speaker that made Yoruichi want to cover her ears. "I know what time I said I'd be there, but I thought someone was following me." There was a pause, and from the look on Ichigo's face, the person on the other line had obviously made some sort of snide remark.

"It's not paranoia when someone's actually out to get you," he snapped. "I'll be there in a little bit. Don't worry."

And with that, the phone was closed and replaced. Ichigo started for the mouth of the alley, but paused and closed his eyes. Yoruichi briefly wondered what the kid was doing until she felt a slight shift in his energy. And with a suddenness that took her aback, Ichigo's eyes opened, and his head swiveled up so he was staring right at her. Their eyes locked, and for a tense moment Yoruichi thought she'd been found out. Then she remembered her stealth training, as well as the fact that she was a _cat_, and let out a loud, plaintive mewling noise.

She watched as Ichigo sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Must be losing my mind," she heard him grunt as he left. Yoruichi waited for about a minute before continuing her tailing of the pre-teen, mind racing all the while.

_He sensed me_, she thought, keeping her gaze focused on the mop of orange hair. _It probably wasn't as precise as it could be, and he obviously thinks he's going crazy, but he could actually _sense_ me_. Which was something most regular shinigami couldn't even think of doing while she was in her feline form. It was small, yes, and definitely helped in stealth missions, but her spiritual pressure was severely restricted with most of it tied up keeping her looking like a cat. Even some onmitsukido would be hard-pressed to locate her while she was like that, and an eleven-year-old _boy_ had done so with hardly any effort. If he were a bit more trained in sensing spiritual residue, he would've known that there was a supernatural cat following him.

_This might be a little more interesting than I thought_...

* * *

Yoruichi lazed on a high branch in the dappled shade of a tree, watching with some amusement as the two children sparred. It was actually pretty impressive, considering they'd probably only been studying martial arts for about five years (the blink of an eye for a spirit), and yet they went after each other ferociously, and with enough power behind their strikes to cause quite a bit of damage.

_It's definitely more entertaining than lounging around the shop all day_, she thought, watching as the smaller figure lashed out with a series of vicious kicking forms, driving the orange-haired boy back with the deceptive strength the girl hid.

"So," the girl, Tatsuki, started conversationally as she tried to swipe a bladed hand into Ichigo's shoulder joint, "did you ever find your imaginary stalker?"

Ichigo scowled as he side-stepped the chop and struck out with a pair of quick gut punches before darting away. "I'm _not_ imagining it," he bit out, narrowly missing getting decapitated by a roundhouse. "There's seriously someone following me around." Yoruichi smirked when she saw him consciously stop himself from looking around suspiciously. "It's this prickle in the back of my neck, all the time."

"You sure it's not, y'know," she hesitated, "a _ghost_?"

Ichigo paused, as if the thought had never even crossed his mind. "You...might be on to something, Tatsuki. Why the hell didn't I think of that?" He fell out of his fighting stance in favor of pacing in front of Yoruichi's tree, mumbling to himself. "I need to figure out a way to track something like that down," he finally surmised.

Tatsuki rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and how do you propose we track a ghost? You know, those things that most people _can't see_?"

"That's something I just have to figure out," Ichigo replied confidently. "Don't worry. Oh, and Tatsuki?" In a move that was too quick for a regular human child to accomplish, his hand darted out and pulled the girl's arm behind her back and brought her down to the ground. "Guard up," he said with a grin.

Tatsuki growled, face pressed into the grass, as she tried to pull out of the hold, but Ichigo just wrenched her arm up higher, forcing her to stop struggling or else dislocate her shoulder.

"Get off me, jerk!" she snapped.

"What's the magic word?" When Tatsuki shouted out a guess, Ichigo tutted. "Now, that's not proper language for a young lady, is it?"

Roaring, Tatsuki bucked him off, regardless of her arm, and Ichigo let go and hopped away laughing as his sparring partner chased after him, hurling threats as she went.

Up in the tree, Yoruichi stretched as she chuckled to herself. She'd found herself enjoying watching the two children fight, but she wouldn't let Kisuke know that.

She followed them until Tatsuki and Ichigo parted ways, and then tailed the orange-haired boy down the back streets once more. Yoruichi watched as her prey became more shifty-eyed and nervous again.

_His instincts are definitely good_, she mused, hopping up onto a trash can, and winced when it clattered. She was getting sloppy in the human world, and that was unacceptable. Of course, Ichigo spun around, eyes darting wildly toward the sound, and spotting Yoruichi easily.

His face was adorably bewildered, and she could almost see the gears turning in his head. "Was it you that's been following me, cat?" he asked in a painfully confused tone as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Geez, I really _am_ getting paranoid," he muttered to himself. "But Tatsuki can't know that she's right, or she won't let me hear the end of it."

Yoruichi could sympathize with the kid, knowing someone who'd lord the fact that they were right over her very well. So she decided to take pity on him.

"It's not paranoia when someone's actually watching," she said in the deep, masculine voice of her cat form, moving her lips deliberately so he could see them.

If this had been a cartoon, his jaw would've cracked the pavement at his feet. As it was, he looked absolutely thunderstruck. Yoruichi was beginning to enjoy seeing the reactions on his rather expressive face.

"You're a cat," he finally said, in a much calmer voice than his expression belied.

"And you have a very refined way of stating things people are already aware of," she replied, and he closed his mouth while his eyes bulged. This was fun!

"Are you a spirit, Cat?" he said after a minute of silent staring. "You feel kind of like a ghost, but more substantial." Yourichi raised an eyebrow; the kid was pretty astute.

"Maybe I am," she purred slyly, "but maybe I'm not. I'll leave it up to you to decide, Kurosaki Ichigo."

"You know my name," his voice became less dumbstruck and more curious.

"And your mastery over the obvious continues to show itself," she shot back. She could see the frustration growing on his face.

"What I mean is," he ground out, visibly reigning in his irritation, "how is it that you know my name? How long have you been following me around?"

"Now, now," Yoruichi chuckled. "Didn't I say that you should be the one to figure it out?" With a quick couple of steps, she flashed up to the top of one of the buildings which hemmed them in. "All you need to know is that I'm not an ordinary cat."

And then she took off across the rooftops. But before she was out of earshot, she heard him shout, "Now who's the one stating the obvious!?" and couldn't help but smirk. This kid was getting more interesting by the second.

* * *

Urahara Kisuke sighed heavily, rubbing his temples to alleviate the building pressure of his newest migraine. The blonde-haired genius rarely suffered from such headaches unless he was faced with a problem he couldn't easily find a solution to, and Kurosaki Ichigo certainly qualified in some respects.

From the data gathered, he knew many things about the boy, including his favorite food (chocolate-covered habañero peppers), his hobbies (reading untranslated Shakespearean works), even his average bed time (nine-thirty). What he did _not_ know, or was even able to properly quantify without closer examination, was his spirit pressure's growth rate. With what he knew, Kisuke only knew that the kid was on par with an unseated shinigami fresh from the Academy, at least in terms of raw reiatsu.

Control-wise, on the other hand, the kid leaked energy like a broken faucet, and it was starting to become a problem. His closest (actually, when Kisuke thought about it, his _only_) friend, a girl named Arisawa Tatsuki, was very close to gaining spiritual awareness on a minor level from simply being in close proximity to the power Ichigo emitted constantly.

Of course, it was to be expected. With who and what his parents were, Ichigo would become a powerful being no matter what happened, and the same went for his two sisters.

Tapping his chin thoughtfully, Kisuke grabbed a pen and began scribbling half-formed ideas and brainwaves onto a blank piece of paper. He had hypothesized long ago that the Kurosaki siblings could very well manifest a sort of make-shift zanpakuto if their souls were shown the blueprint for such a thing. As well, they could turn in the exact opposite direction and gain Quincy abilities just as easily.

The problem Kisuke faced was whether or not he should interfere with their natural development. His gut told him that such powerful beings would be needed quite soon, but his head and heart both argued that they were still children, and should be given the freedom to do as they pleased.

As these thoughts assailed him, his head gave another plaintive throb. Sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose, Kisuke leaned back, resting his head on the back of his chair and turning slightly so his cheek rested on the soft leather. When he did so, a small glimmer at the edge of his line of sight caught his attention, and he slowly stood and walked over to the small, unassuming black gemstone.

He raised it to the ceiling fixture, watching as the light played across its gleaming facets. "All this trouble for such a small thing," he wondered aloud. "All the worlds in peril simply because one monstrous man wants you, my Hogyoku."

Kisuke closed his hand around his creation, wishing for what had to be the millionth time that he'd never made this beautiful, terrible thing. A small, ironic chuckle escaped his mouth. _If wishes were fishes..._he thought wryly.

Setting the Orb of Distortion back on his shelf, Kisuke turned and, leaning over his desk, jotted down a quick note to himself before shutting the lights and heading to his bed for a quick nap.

* * *

Yoruichi entered the shop owned and operated by Kisuke through an open window which happened to lead into the blonde man's workshop. She silently padded through the darkened room, leaping gracefully up onto the desk.

On a piece of paper, amidst several formulaic equations and indecipherable scrawls were three words, circled in red ink.

_Kurosaki Ichigo: Savior?_

"What in the world..." Yoruichi muttered to herself. "Kisuke, what do you know that I don't?"

Determined to ask her friend, she headed to his room, only to find him sleeping fitfully.

"...Aizen...hypnosis...Ichigo...Purple Rain..." he grumbled in his sleep. Yoruichi decided that she could ask him once he awoke, and left the dreaming man to his slumber.

* * *

**After-Action Report: **So this chapter is basically a set-up for the beginning of Ichigo's training with the Shoten crew, as well as a bit of Kisuke angst. Poor fella. Not much else, I apologize for not giving you a kick-ass fight scene or anything like that, but I'm-a cookin'-a somethin' up, don't you worry you pretty little heads!

Please review if you have read this and enjoyed it, or read this and abhorred it, or read it and found a glaringly obvious mistake which I should correct post-haste. I really like it when people review.

Which reminds me, I need to thank everyone who followed and favorited this story, but a big, humongous thank-you to everyone who reviewed! To reiterate, I really like it when people review (cough-dropping a hint-cough).


	3. The Protector's Teacher

**Author's Note: **Wow, another one? That was quick. Don't expect anything big here, just a quick chapter I somehow managed to spit out betwixt all of my life's many roadblocks. Thanks for all the reviews!

**Disclaimer** and **Warning** still apply.

* * *

Chapter 3: The Protector's Teacher

* * *

Tatsuki was in a bit of a predicament.

As she stood outside the Kurosaki household, many thoughts raced through her young mind, chief of which was, _What the _hell_ is going on with him?_

Her current problem, like most of her troubles these days, stemmed from the Strawberry. At first, she'd barely noticed it, just a few bouts out of every seven he'd win in their daily sparring matches. But then it became more than a few, until he had consecutively beaten her for two weeks straight. It wasn't because he was getting stronger, or more skilled . He was just getting a lot quicker in an absurdly short amount of time. It got to the point that she almost couldn't see his attacks, and it infuriated her to no end.

However, the reason she was in such deep thought beneath Ichigo's window was not his sudden winning streak or his sudden increase in agility.

The day before, Tatsuki had been out on a jog through the streets of Karakura, trying to blow off steam. Ichigo had cancelled their match _again_, and it'd been gnawing at her nerves. But all that was quickly forgotten when, as she waited for the crossing light to change, she spotted something so improbable she almost started looking for falling potted daisies.

There, perched on the street light across the road like some bizarrely large and ungainly pigeon, was none other than her best friend, clutching onto the steel pole as if his life depended on it. And with cars speeding by like they didn't notice the ten-year-old above them, it very likely did.

She glanced around her and found that nobody else seemed very interested in an idiot kid with orange hair hanging from a traffic light. Looking back up, she realized that there was a black cat lounging next to Ichigo, looking about as calm as a cat normally would. Ichigo's mouth moved, but Tatsuki couldn't even hear snatches of his voice over the traffic.

Suddenly, Ichigo hopped up to his feet, balancing precariously on the steel. The cat jumped up onto his shoulder, and then they _blurred_.

Blue eyes widened, as the pair's appearance seemed to simply dissolve into nothingness, and it took all of her will power _not _to faint. Instead, she forced herself to get back to her house and into her room before the stress of seeing her best friend disappear caused her body to shut down for a while.

Back in the present, Tatsuki drew in a bracing breath, then knocked on the door. It was still early in the morning, so it was Yuzu who answered, still a little bleary-eyed. After exchanging the usual pleasantries, the younger girl directed Tatsuki upstairs to Ichigo's room. She opened the door with the '15' plaque hanging from it...

...and found Ichigo sleeping soundly, one leg sticking out of the sheets awkwardly. The black cat she'd seen was staring at her with eerily intelligent yellow eyes from its position on Ichigo's pillow just above his head.

Steeling her resolve, Tatsuki moved forward, one step at a time, until she was standing at Ichigo's shoulder. Then she tried shaking him awake.

She realized that this was obviously the wrong thing to do almost immediately. Her first clue was when Ichigo grabbed her by the sleeve and caught her in a vice-grip. Her second clue was when he started snoring.

That jerk had beaten her in his _sleep_!

"Ichigo! What are you-hey! Stop that!"

Tatsuki thought she couldn't get any more embarrassed than when she'd found herself wrapped in Ichigo's arms. Then, Isshin opened the door, took in the sight before him, and promptly closed the door again, wailing to the poster of Masaki he'd recently put up to commemorate his beloved.

She heard someone snicker lightly, and glared fiercely at Ichigo...who was still asleep. Glancing around the rest of the room, Tatsuki found it still empty.

"Great, now I'm hearing things," she grumbled, trying valiantly to escape from Ichigo's 'embrace.'

"Hm, if you say so."

Tatsuki froze. That voice had been much too deep to be Ichigo's, or Isshin's for that matter. Turning her head slowly, her eyes found the only other occupant of the room, and its golden eyes stared right back at her.

"Did...did you just _talk_?" she asked, feeling very silly. Everyone knew that talking cats only lived in cartoons and movies.

There was silence, and Tatsuki almost heaved a sigh of relief. Until the cat replied.

"You must be hearing things," it said in that velvety baritone voice she'd heard earlier. Tatsuki blinked owlishly, opened her mouth, then closed it again, wondering what to say next. "What's the matter?" the feline continued. "Cat got your tongue?"

Tatsuki's mind almost shut down then and there. A cat had _spoken _to her. A cat had spoken to her, and then _made a bad pun_ about it. Compared to this, Ichigo blurring out of sight yesterday was downright ordinary.

Then, Ichigo decided to put in his two cents. "Wha...hell?" he grumbled in his sleep. "Why's my pillow smell like Tatsuki?"

The cat snickered again, and this time, Tatsuki's brain _did_ close up shop.

* * *

Honestly, it hadn't been Yoruichi's intention to teach the kid shunpo. After she'd revealed her ability to communicate, Ichigo had begun to follow her around in an odd mirror of their previous routine. It had gotten to the point where she'd finally just flash-stepped away from his constant questions. In hindsight, that had been her mistake.

Somehow, some way, Ichigo had _felt_ the way she'd used her energy to shunt herself forward. A day after she'd done it in front of him, as he was chasing after her, Yoruichi had received her biggest shock since she'd discovered pornography when she'd felt a few fingers snatch at her tail. She'd used the movement arts to escape, only to watch as Kurosaki freakin' Ichigo crudely shoved a bit of his building reiryoku into his leg and used a sloppy, primitive form of shunpo to follow.

It wasn't good, to put it kindly; he'd only moved a few feet forward, and the energy expenditure was wasteful in the extreme. But he'd _moved_. Alone, with no instruction other than watching her do it _once_, Ichigo had reverse-engineered the flash-step technique and made it work.

Of course, the idiot had collapsed almost immediately afterward. After all, this _was _the first time he'd consciously used any amount of his spirit energy for anything other than sensing out another's power.

Still, as Yoruichi changed into a human and hefted the exhausted boy over her shoulder, she couldn't help but be impressed by the kid. It had taken her days of practice after watching her father as a child, and even then she'd had the benefit of actually knowing the basics of reiatsu and its applications.

_Maybe Kisuke's right_, she thought. _Maybe this kid really _is_ something special._ _And there's only one way to find out for sure._

So she started dropping a hint here or there, maybe correcting his footing every once in a while, making sure he knew just how much reiryoku to use for a ten-foot step versus a twenty-foot step, until finally one day after she'd shown him how to dismount properly...

"Thanks, Yoruichi-sensei," Ichigo said offhandedly as he tried again to make sure he had it right. That had stopped the cat up short.

"What did you say?"

Ichigo paused, looking back at her weirdly. "I said thanks," he reiterated slowly. "You go deaf or something? I thought cats had superior hearing..."

Irritated, Yoruichi swatted him upside the head. "Fool, my hearing is far better than your will ever be! I was simply unnerved at the fact that you believe yourself good enough to call yourself my pupil."

"Oh." The kid seemed a bit downtrodden. "Sorry, I guess I overestimated myself again." He went back to practicing in the deserted clearing they'd found near a grave site, and Yoruichi watched on idly, pondering to herself.

_Overestimating yourself?_ she thought in amusement as she caught a quick glimpse of his determined scowl. _Silly boy, you're _under_estimating yourself by a long-shot. You've mastered the basics of the flash-step in two weeks with barely any help, and you call _me_ sensei as though I did anything? Well, if you already want me to be your teacher..._

"Ichigo." The boy tried to stop mid-step and ended up flinging himself into a nearby tree. Grumbling and cursing lightly, he turned to her questioningly. "Since you seem so eager to learn from me, perhaps it's time I showed you something."

* * *

Tsukabishi Tessai prided himself on projecting a cool, impervious demeanor to the world while keeping his every thought private until he felt the need to put in his two cents. As an expert Kido master, control (of mind, spirit, _and _body) came as naturally as breathing after so long training himself.

Therefore, he surprised himself by letting out a small noise of shock at sensing Yoruichi approaching at low shunpo speed with what his spirit-sense perceived at first as a roiling ball of energy about four and a half feet tall following behind. Then, as he picked apart the waves of reiatsu, he was able to discern the shape of a young, prepubescent child, most likely a boy.

By the time they'd arrived, his mask of complete and utter nonchalance had fallen back into place. _Tsukabishi Tessai gives no fucks_, he thought to himself. It had become a mantra of sorts when he needed to focus on the higher-level demon magicks, and it was useful for maintaining his street cred.

So when they arrived, Tessai didn't so much as twitch an eyebrow, not even at the boy's unnatural hair color.

"Tessai, say hello to Kurosaki Ichigo," Yoruichi introduced the kid, and it took all of Tessai's formidable non-fuck-giving attitude to simply nod and continue sweeping off the porch. The second they were inside the shop and down the hall a bit, however, the former Kido Corps captain stealthily followed after. It wasn't everyday that a pureblood shinigami child who was still alive visited their humble store.

His stoicism was further put to the test when, after a passing introduction to the shop's owner, who wasn't nearly as good as Tessai at hiding his surprise, Yoruichi took Ichigo down into the underground training chamber.

The boy would need lessons in not giving any fucks, Tessai concluded when he heard the amazed exclamation of "Is this place a TARDIS?" issue from the trap door.

* * *

**After-Action Report: **So, again, not much to speak of, just another set-up. This time, it's to show that Tatsuki's got enough spiritual awareness to be able to clearly see Yoruichi's feline form as well as the SEP that Ichigo's use of reiryoku projects. As well, Yoruichi's starting to warm up to the kid. That last bit from Tessai's POV came out of nowhere, even for me. In future battles, Ichigo will likely not give very many fucks, thanks to Tessai's training.

Whatever, it's not my best, but it's still mine. Review, por favor!


	4. The Protector's Promise

**Author's Note:** Well, here's another one. I'm not quite sure where the inspiration is flowing from, but I figure it's better to get some writing done instead of wonder what my muse is up to and waste time. So, another chapter for you. The chapters have been getting progressively shorter since I started, so gave a little extra effort, so this one's about a thousand words larger than Chapter 3, so enjoy! And again, thanks for the reviews!

**Disclaimer **and **Warning **still apply.

* * *

Chapter 4: The Protector's Promise

* * *

"So, you're _not_ a Time Lord."

Kisuke was having some trouble trying to figure out exactly why Ichigo thought he was a time-machine-possessing alien, but he muscled through as well as he could.

"No," he replied as levelly as possible. "I'm just a humble shop owner, with a few secrets of course. Everyone has secrets, you know."

Ichigo's soft brown eyes glanced to the right where the blonde knew Yoruichi was lazing near the heater. "So how'd you make this pocket dimension then? Did you use...reiryoku? Like how I do with flash-steps?"

Now it was Kisuke's turn to shot a look at the black cat, this one of incredulity. "You're teaching him flash-steps?"

"The brat learned it himself," Yoruichi answered with a raised eyebrow and a smirk to go with it. "After watching me use it to escape him...once. I just gave him some pointers here and there."

Kisuke was fairly startled by her revelation. Certainly, he'd known that the boy's growth rate was exceptional, but to have such sharp analytical prowess and the sheer instinct required to be able to do shunpo unassisted as well was...well, it scared him a little to be honest. If he kept at it in this vein, Ichigo could be exactly the person to serve Aizen the comeuppance he deserved.

But again, was Kisuke really that desperate to turn a little boy...a _living _child...into a weapon against a true monster?

Before he could sink into another melancholy train of thought, Ichigo slammed his fist onto the table to command his attention. "Hey, Geta-Boshi, or whatever your name is. Even if you're not from Gallifrey, you can do stuff with reiryoku that's pretty unbelievable. And I need you to teach me this stuff. How to be stronger. I need to be stronger."

That set off alarm klaxons in Kisuke's head like little else could. The boy wanted strength, just as Aizen had wanted those many years ago. "And for what purpose do you want such power, Kurosaki Ichigo?" he questioned neutrally. He saw Yoruichi rise slowly to her pads, eyes on both of them, and Tessai wordlessly began to create hand signs behind Ichigo's back.

The boy gripped the sides of the table he sat at, a hard expression on his face and determination blazing in his eyes. "My mother died about a year ago. I wasn't..." Ichigo's gaze almost wavered, but Kisuke watched, fascinated, as the child forced himself to keep their eyes locked. "I wasn't strong enough to protect her. I couldn't save her because I was too weak, and it _hurt_!" Moisture formed at the edges of Ichigo's eyes, but he dashed them away angrily, thumping himself in the chest with an open palm.

"But I can use spirit energy, I can do flash-step, so you can teach me more! So that I can guard my family, and my friends, and anyone who needs it! So that nobody has to feel like...like how I did that day!"

Kisuke studied the young man before him, a new respect for the kid building in his mind. Masaki had been a wonderful woman, he knew, and it had been a terrible blow to the shop's denizens. To Ichigo, it had torn up his entire life, but the orange-haired youth had somehow pulled the shreds back to him. And with a bit of help from those who cared for him, Ichigo had sewn the pieces together with the thread of his own determination and motivation.

_So that's what drives you, hm?_

"I'll tell you what," the blonde finally said, adjusting his bucket hat so it shadowed his eyes. "I'll allow you to use my underground training area to practice whatever Yoruichi sees fit to teach you. Maybe if you improve enough, I might show you a thing or two."

Then his eyes hardened as they bored into Ichigo, and the kid tensed as Kisuke released enough of his spirit's pressure that beads of sweat began to form on the boy's brow. "But hear this now, Kurosaki Ichigo. If I catch you using what you learn here for petty, mean-spirited, or downright evil acts, you _will_ answer to me. Understand?"

Ichigo could do little more than jerk his head up and down in agreement, and Kisuke reigned in his reiatsu as quickly as he'd released it, donning a winning smile instantly. "Well, I'm glad we've come to an accord, my young friend. Feel free to check out the facilities!"

As Yoruichi led the still somewhat shell-shocked Ichigo back down into the subterranean chamber, Kisuke chuckled to himself. Scaring little children, it never got boring! At least Ichigo hadn't wet himself like little Byaku-bo...

* * *

"And this has to do with your ability to see ghosts and stuff?" Tatsuki asked. It had taken a lot of trust in Ichigo, but she'd managed to believe him about the supernatural shop with a giant underground desert room beneath it.

She took a swipe at him, but he predictably dodged it, sending a blistering back fist her way. "Yeah, something like that. Yoruichi says that it's because I was born with such high reiatsu that I can see dead folks."

"So you're telling me that kid in that movie can do what you do?" Tatsuki shot back, catching his strike and flipping him over her hip. She didn't give him a chance to even catch his breath and drove a hard elbow into his gut just as he landed on the hard-packed ground.

He lay there for a moment to get his wind back, then grinned up at her. "Haley Joel Osment _wishes _he can do what I can," he said with a grin.

Tatsuki dropped to the ground, sitting cross-legged next to Ichigo, who remained laying on his back and sighed. "It just sucks that I can't see ghosts," she grumbled.

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, if I could, then that would mean I had enough rei-whatsit to do that blurry-teleport thing, too."

"So what if I got faster?" Ichigo said, nudging her knee. "You're still, like, bizarrely strong, Tats. I bet you'd be able to knock down a tree with a kick in a few years. Just give it time, don't sweat it."

"What if I can't catch up?" Tatsuki pressed. "You're pulling further ahead of me lately, and I don't know if...if you'll need me for much longer. I mean, you only hang out with me so I can help you get better, what happens when I can't help you anymore? When you're too strong for me to be of any use?"

Ichigo gave her a look that told her she was being stupid, an expression that she usually gave to him. "Tats...you're an idiot. I don't hang around you _just _because you're a good fighter. We're friends, _nakama_. Birds of a feather and all that mushy stuff. I will _never_ not need you."

_That_ was certainly uplifting for the girl. These thoughts had been hovering in her mind for the past week like gathering storm clouds. Leave it to the weirdo with hair brighter than the sun to shoo them away.

"And besides," Ichigo continued. "Yoruichi says that all they physical training I do strengthens my reiatsu, and that everyone's born with even just a little bit of it. So that means that whenever we train, you're building it up, too. I just started with more so I'm at a higher level. You've been training longer than me, so you shouldn't have too much less." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Y'know, I bet it isn't too long until you're seeing ghosts and stuff yet."

"So just by being around you, I go a little bit more crazy?" Tatsuki smirked, dispelling the last of her sour mood. "Jeez, story of my life..."

It was hours later that Tatsuki and Ichigo finally parted ways after he kept pointing out deceased spirits while she strained herself to see them. They got to the point that she could at least see a slightly hazy outline of the ghosts, somewhat like a heat mirage. Now that she knew she at least had the potential for using that spirit energy stuff, she was feeling pretty good. So, with the pocket money her mother allowed her, she went off and bought herself some ice cream and a manga along the way.

Maybe it was because she was in such high spirits that Tatsuki failed to hear the faint thudding sounds. Maybe it was because the fuzzy silhouette was so large she didn't register it. But what she did notice was the ground suddenly splitting just in front of her, and it was only through sheer reflex that she was able to backpedal quickly enough to avoid being sent tumbling down into the sewer system.

Now that she was actively looking, it was hard not to miss the giant shape that impeded her view of the stars. Easily twenty feet high, the general shape seemed like a huge, hulking humanoid. Tatsuki assessed her options: Stay and fight something she could only vaguely sense, and probably couldn't harm even if she could, or...

She took off running down a side-street, and she narrowly avoided getting struck by what she assumed was the creature's left fist. What in the world was going on? This must be something to do with the spirit-sense she'd just barely awoken, and she cursed what had to be the worst luck in the world as she cut through a cramped alleyway to hopefully lose the spectral monster.

After two more turns through the alley, she headed back for a main street so she could hopefully find Ichigo. Before she could win free of the exit, however, a blurry figure blocked her escape, and she swore she could make out a vaguely triangular mask-like face the size of her whole body leering down the passage at her.

A flash of movement at the edge of her periphery was the only thing that alerted her to the huge claw descending upon her before she was grabbed up, being squeezed so tightly that she could barely breathe.

And as she struggled for breath, a switch seemingly flipped in her brain as the true, hideous form of her attacker slowly revealed itself to her eyes. In that moment, she was terrified, and knew that she would die as the bone-white mask opened wide and revealed the cavernous depths beneath.

* * *

It didn't know where It was.

It knew that It was safe, which was good, and It knew It wasn't hungry, which was better. Why wasn't It hungry, though? It didn't know much, but It knew that It_ should _be starving, that there was an integral piece of Itself missing.

Another thing It knew was _Him_. It knew He was the one who was feeding It, keeping It safe from harm's way just as It kept Him from dying. They were simply host and parasite living in a cycle of mutual symbiosis. It was content, but knew that It was missing _something_.

It knew a lot about the world which He occupied, having seen all that He had seen for more than a year. A wide world populated by, among others, His precious ones. It hoped one day for Him to acknowledge It as a precious one as well, but for now He didn't actually know It existed.

Which was fine for It, as It hadn't exactly announced its presence with a panoply of fanfare. It hid in the shadowy recesses in His psyche, watching, waiting for the time to come.

It was proud of the way He had grown in such a short time, and sensed from the False Cat that He was far surpassing both the False Cat's and the Hat-Clogs' expectations. It could feel Its power growing along with His own well of energy, and something of what was lost surged at the back of its mind just on the edges of its consciousness.

He had been walking home from the shop after a grueling session in which the False Cat had been trying to show Him how to use his energy to make His body more durable when It felt something. Almost unnoticeable, it was like a pulse had gone through Its being, and It screamed with all Its might at Him to go to where the warning had indicated.

He didn't know what was going on, but It continued roaring at Him to get going, and He presently brought his wellspring of energy to the forefront of Their connection and initiated a sequence of flash-steps that took him sailing toward the source of the bad feeling.

With It guiding Him, He quickly landed on the roof of a two-story building, watching a strange, humongous creature thudding through the streets. It was immediately intrigued by the creature, feeling some sort of...affinity with it, but It was closer to Him than the hulk down below.

When the monster reached down into an alley and plucked out a squirming human form, It suddenly felt the pulse again and could actually feel..._pain_ coming from the creature. Pain that clawed at its mind and its belly constantly. The creature was trying to assuage that horrible hunger that permeated its very essence, and It felt a pang of sympathy for it.

Then, He suddenly picked up on just _who _the creature was holding in its clawed hands. After a moment, It recognized the growing power of the Dragon, His precious comrade. Before It knew what was going on, He had _moved_.

His left leg whipped down, slamming heel-first into the creature's masked forehead with a ferocious crack. The creature stumbled backward, relinquishing its grip on the Dragon, and He again blurred out, grabbing her before she could hit the ground and gently setting her gasping body out of sight before heading back toward the creature who dared _think_ about eating _His_ friend!

This time, He came in from behind, slamming His shoulder into the back of the monster's knee and sending it crashing into a kneeling position before racing up its scaly back. However, before He could make it up to the mask and try again, a pair of clawed fists raced toward Him, and He only just dodged them.

Unfortunately, He lost his footing on the slick scales and slid to the ground. There, the creature simply had to flick its foot to send Him flying through a glass storefront. He struggled feebly against the constraints of His mortal body, which had been strengthened with an infusion of energy just before impact. Only thanks to It had He been spared.

But even so, It felt the roiling pits of despair grow within Him as He watched the creature turn back to the Dragon, feeling no more threat from Him. In that moment, It could not adequately describe the sense of swelling strength that grew within It, but knew beyond doubt that it was His feelings of wretchedness for not being powerful enough to defeat the creature, fear for His Dragon, and above all, misery for not having the strength to keep His precious ones from harm's way which was the catalyst for Its change.

And in the moments just after, It knew that It could help Him. And It knew that It was Hollow.

* * *

**After-Action Report: **Ooh, a cliff-hanger. If that last segment was too confusing, then I sincerely apologize. If you didn't guess by now, "It" (with a capital 'I') is Ichigo's Hollow, and "He" is Ichigo. I've always been of the opinion that Ichi's Hollow is _not_ "Whitey" or whatever Aizen called that Vasto Lorde that attacked Masaki (despite the similarity Ichigo's Berserk-Hollow form bears to Whitey), but _was_ born from its power combining with the horrendously intense trauma instilled within Ichigo when his mother was brutally murdered in front of him. Canon-wise, Ichigo's Hollow manifested itself when he went through the Shattered Shaft training to re-awaken his latent Shinigami powers and felt like it was a fly-or-die situation (which it kind of was).

So, at this point in the story, Hollow-chan is still in its earliest stages of development, and the despair at being unable to stop Tatsuki meeting the same fate as Masaki is what pushes the Hollow over into being at about the same power as a mid-level, pre-Menos Hollow while simultaneously shoving Ichigo to the side. You'll get a better idea of what's going on next chapter, but I'm not giving Ichigo an instant power-up with no drawbacks. At. All.

The fic this one's based on had Ichigo pull down his Hollow Mask at the beginning of the Agent of the Shinigami Arc with impunity. I still want that to happen, but I want there to be growth that we didn't get to see in the original _Not Another Bleach Fic_ that shows just how Ichigo managed to get so badass. So, it'll still be a while before we even get to Rukia showing up and all the related shenanigans that she brings around.

Thanks once again to all my reviewers, and a special thanks to **your local SIMUVAC**, whose reviews are just...just awesome.

Until next time, my fellow fanfic aficionados!


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